Dolls in Neverland
by Speak Your Mind
Summary: The SWA is on the brink of a breakdown. Jose has gone missing, Henrietta's life is slipping away, and the fratello are in danger. What happens when the hunters become the hunted? Chapter Five Up!...Resistance and Longing.
1. Uomini, macchine e ragazze

_So here's my first GSG fanfic. I've currently put up a hiatus on my Witch Hunter Robin fanfic (which have been going on quite fine, but I just lost interest in the anime..sob sob). Now, my current obsession is this! I came across a thought of the GSG girls growing up, but did they ever say in the anime that they can't? I would very much appreciate it if anyone knew. Anyway, please R/R and leave concrits cause I really love those things and just makes me a better writer. Thanks!_

_Disclaimer- I do not own GSG! _

**GSG: Dolls in Neverland **

_Chapter One - Uomini, macchine e ragazze_

_**Men, Machine, and Girls**_

"Well," Dr. Bianchi breathed, quite perplexed, holding a print-out after the girls' semi-weekly examinations. "How would you explain this, Croce?"

The two men were seated in front of the glass wall that put a barrier between the gray examination room with the single steel table where Henrietta was just waking up from the anesthesia. Jose did not peel his eyes from the small girl in the white gown, now sitting up and looking up at him with the doe-like eyes with something like a glint of excitement and an unexplainable sparkle of anticipation.

"You tell me, Bianchi. You're the doctor, aren't you?" He replied monotonously. _A new one wouldn't be so bad, either. _He thought. He had promised Henrietta ice cream at Piazza di Spagna as soon as this thing was over, and remembered her saying that she was almost reaching her prime goal in life – taste every single flavor of gelato in Italy.

"Huh, I might think that over, now that you've mentioned it." Bianchi answered with no humor, "Before I do that though, you might as well look this over." He reached over and handed Jose the print out.

Jose gave Bianchi a glance, and saw that he was really being serious. He took the paper and skimmed it hastily just to satisfy the doctor.

"Everything looks very well, I would say…" Jose stopped in mid-sentence. "101 cm?"

"Last time I checked her up, the girl was 100.5." Bianchi muttered gravely. "We've got ourselves a little problem."

* * *

The Croce brothers met up at the practice shooting range. The place was very deserted, since **a)** they both abandoned the sparring practice, and **b)** Jean preferred that no one witness him talking to Jose. 

Jean showed every bit of his antipathy in having to come out here to talk about "something gravely important" as Jose put it. He did not buy it, but he was here anyway.

"What are you trying to say?" Jean demanded, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. His cold blue eyes narrowed in annoyance.

Jose leaned against the wooden table with cartons of bullets strewn across it. He picked on up and rolled it between his fingers. "I never thought this was possible, and you might think I'm an idiot. Maybe I already am." He said, looking at the small piece of shiny lead between his fingers.

Jean raised his eyebrows.

"The girls are experiencing growth."

Jean's face went blank. His hard expression didn't change, but his cigarette did fall off his mouth.

"You are a _goddamn idiot_, Jose. I think it's about time that you---" Jean raised a fist, as if attempting to pull Jose back into reality.

"I know, but you have to look at this first. Here." Jose forced the crumpled piece of paper into Jean's hands. He snatched it, and his incredulous eyes immediately moved on the page. "I know what you're thinking, brother. Just _look _at it."

"What the hell…" Jean muttered, his tense shoulders falling.

"Rico has grown almost .8 cm over the last three days. Surely you have noticed it. The same goes to Claes and Henrietta. Triela, conversely, has changed the least. I find that a relief."

"They are goddamn _cyborgs, _Jose. _Tools._ From what I know, carbon muscle fibers and limbs are incapable of _growing._ What the hellis going on here?" Jean spat as if his was all sickening to him.

Jose looked at his distraught blond brother with furrowed brows. "Tools? Jean, I think that this was how it was supposed to be around here. The girls are finally becoming something more like human beings." Jose answered rather coldly, although his voice would never be _as _cold and hard as Jean's if he ever tried.

With that, the dark-haired brother mutely turned and walked away into the SWA building.

* * *

"Triela, do you think it's going to rain soon?" Henrietta inquired in an anxious panic in her voice. She gazed intently out the window, and to her dismay, a roll of thunder rumbled not far away. 

The taller, older girl was just getting into rearranging her long line of Steiff teddy bears, listened to the distant rumble and said matter-of-factly, "Yes," when, she heard the smaller girl let out a muffled sob. Triela jumped by to her side and put a motherly arm around her. "Aw, Henrietta, is it Jose again?"

She nodded wetly into her shoulders, creating blotches onto her new white shirt Hilshire had bought for her. It must have been the damned washing machine, since her old button-up and pants have shrunken by quiet a lot. She quietly blamed Priscilla for causing Hilshire such a problem. But, she hated to admit, she _was _quite pleased by his attention.

When Triela tried with all her efforts to soothe the distressed little Henrietta, someone knocked the door, sending the two girls to a start. Before she could say anything, four men, composed of the two doctors Bianchi and Gilliani, a technician named Belgonchi, and, amidst the frowning faces, was Jose. The strange foursome barged in without a word.

Triela stood up automatically, very startled. "Uh, something wrong?"


	2. Dall'altro lato del vetro

_**Dolls in Neverland **_

_Chapter Two - Dall'altro lato del vetro_

_On the Other Side of the Glass_

Triela was genuinely _baffled. _She hated to admit, but she almost felt the chill of fear running down her spine as Dr. Bianchi took her tanned arm with a cold, hard grasp.

_So what if something's wrong with me? I don't feel anything. _She glanced over at Henrietta. _But then, I never did._ Every pore of her being showed distress and misery as she sat glumly on the steel stool.The blonde girl watched Dr. Bianchi scribble something into his clipboard before discovering that Hillshire was watching her with Jose on the other side of the glass. She let out a snort that was just a tad bit too loud. Dr. Bianchi raised an eyebrow, and called for Dr. Gilliani.

"Say hello to the guru of artificial limbs, girls." Bianchi joked, but it was hardly one. "This man, right here, is the one who gave you girls the arms and legs so you could better help your fratellos,"

"Uh, sir, we don't need a replacement quite yet. We haven't had anything to do for some time and look, we hardly have a scratch," Henrietta spoke up, showing her soft pale arm. Gilliani cracked a smile pleasantly, showing a strange mixture of pity and humor.

Triela rolled her eyes. "Etta, you can't possibly think that that's why the guy is here," she pointed sharply. She looked up at Dr. Gillani with furrowed brows and a demanding look.

"Why _are _you here?"

* * *

"You are saying…" Hillshire repeated, quite unable to take all this in.

"The girls' growth had been partially neutralized during the surgical operation and replacing of the body with synthetic carbon frames, but apparently, we haven't done an excellent job in _permanently _putting their development to a halt." Dr. Gillani re-explained. "We are still onto finding out why exactly the girls, despite the conditioning, are able to grow taller at a rate of nearly or over a centimeter a _week_." The technician then excused himself.

Jose pondered this idea for a while, and so did Hillshire. Jean, still disbelieving, had not appeared and taken Rico for another brutal training. "We should report this to Lorenzo," he concluded.

"Hold on, Croce. I don't know if that's really the best thing to do right now." Jose gave his German colleague a skeptical look. "We can't know for sure what he'd say,"

Jose came to a realization. The point of having the girls was that they were _children_. And Lorenzo had specifically pointed out, children are convincing. If he found out that the girls were actually _growing, _it meant, more than likely, that they were futile. "Then what would we do, replace their _brains _with artificial fibers and wires?"

Hillshire turned to look at Triela and Henrietta, just finished with the x-rays and CAT scans, still in the examination room with Dr. Bianchi. His deep, dark eyes cast a faraway look.

"What we have left to do," he said darkly, "is nothing."

Jose stared at the cynical man in disbelief. "Hillshire, I do want to save the girls as much as you do, and the only way is to inform Lorenzo. He is not the man to…_dispose _of a human being, like a damned tool. I'm sure he has his own ways."

"Not so sure about that, Croce…not so sure." Hillshire muttered, and Jose barely heard him.

* * *

A few days passed without much event, except for the excessive checkups with the doctors. The Padania was keeping quiet, and the SWA hadn't been informed of any Mafia's activity around the city. Henrietta, out of everyone else, was most delirious at having Jose all to herself for almost four days.

"Jose?" The little girl with the Amati called, looking up at her fratello with huge, smiling eyes over a large ice-cream cone. To Jose, this was real happiness - although he had a few of those in his life - walking in the famous plaza of Piazza di Spagna with whom he has made especially happy.

"Yes, Henrietta?" Jose replied. This was all very strange…he was not used to Henrietta brushing her "violin" case on his thigh, not his knee. _This growth spurt, there **must **be a way to do something about it. _She had questioned once before if something was wrong with herself, Rico, and Triela and Jose has found an excuse that he had an incredibly important errand to run, much to his guiltiness. He wasn't sure how Henrietta would take it…she probably didn't even know what it was.

"Thank you so much for this gift. I'm really grateful," Suddenly, the little girl seemed timid. "What happened to your sister?"

The fratello froze in his tracks. The petite girl almost ran into his leg, and sending her forward onto the brick pavement instead. He looked down at Henrietta, the face that was a spitting image of Enrica. He couldn't move an inch, not even to help her up. Henrietta was shocked, scared almost, by the reaction.

"I'm so sorry, Jose… I should never have mentioned--"

And it all happened so quickly.

Henrietta, in a fraction of a second, had rammed herself into Jose's side, an impact that sent him crashing onto an ice-cream vendor and a passerby. And when Jose was able to grapple onto this implausible situation and open his eyes half-way, he heard, after years and years of hearing and using it, a familiar, faint little sound of a bullet slicing through the air. He instantly and instinctively recognized it as a Dragunov SWD-M.

And when he fully opened his eyes, he saw Henrietta on the ground.

* * *


	3. Fra speranza ed insanity

**Dolls in Neverland**

_Chapter Three - Fra speranza ed insanity._

_Between Hope and Insanity. _

Jose couldn't watch.

There were at least a dozen tubes and wires coming out of Henrietta's arms, legs, chest, head, and stomach hooked up to at least another dozen machines surrounding her. Her chest was rose and fell sporadically even though the bullet had completely gone through it, slicing everything in its path, including a part of her heart...a partly synthetic heart, that is.

Her body seemed much too small to bear the weight of all the mechanized things that were keeping her alive.

Dr. Bianchi, looking very glum and disheartened, came out from the operation room with blood stained rubber gloves. His hair was mussed and the black-rimmed glasses were tilted to one side. Jose wasn't the only one who had this hard. He himself had large bruises and a sprained shoulder from the impact of Henrietta crashing into him and landing twenty feet away, but he could not feel anything. How was he supposed to, when Henrietta couldn't, either?

"Jose, the sniper was a good one," Bianchi said with a pained frown. "The assailant knew where to hit you, but also managed to instantaneously decide the other and hit Henrietta instead. He was too quick for her."

"All I want to know is if she can be healed." Jose replied mechanically.

Dr. Bianchi sighed tediously, a sure sign it was bad news. "I'm afraid not." Jose looked up as if he were crazy. "Not here, anyway. Not in Italy."

* * *

The handlers of the Social Welfare Agency were called to an immediate meeting first thing on Saturday morning. Everyone sensed intuitively that something big was coming their way.

When the fratellos silently and gravely took their seats in the meeting room, Lorenzo ordered the lights off and turned on the projector screen. On it was a picture of a young, handsomely featured man, his face expressionless and almost glowering. Most people in the room, especially Hillshire, soon identified the man as German.

Lorenzo fixed his glasses. "This man hypothetically goes by an alias of Gustavus Ferlich. His age could range anywhere from eighteen to thirty-six," he continued. "He apparently has smuggled himself and some of his elite buddies into Italy from Berlin not too long ago."

Marco interrupted, his patience nearing the bottom. "Sir, what exactly does this pal want from us?"

"He's a part of German Radicals Federation, a fancy name for people who had been trying to exploit our cyborgs to use them against _us. _The point is that he's the likely suspect of assaulting Jose and Henrietta, provided that he's an excellent sniper with superior precision." Lorenzo's expression went grim. "They're clever enough to know that our cyborgs are not easy gamble."

"So," Jean pointed, "the GRF are going through this much trouble just to get their hands on our cyborgs?"

"Basically, yes." Lorenzo replied simply. "And, we like to keep _our_ cyborgs for _ourselves_."

* * *

Jose was forced back into his room. If it wasn't for Priscilla yapping at him for watching Henrietta for six hours straight, he would've spent the night sitting in front of the glass wall, staring until he couldn't see anymore.

He distractedly ran his hand through his uncombed black hair, as if he could wash everything from his brain that way. He thought of Dr. Bianchi's words.

"_The only other country that we know of with the technology available is Germany. Their knowledge may even outclass ours, as far as I can tell," he said dejectedly but with hope in his voice. "We might be able to send Henrietta over there without causing too much difficulty."_

Jose repeated these words to see if they sounded too insane. He decided, after a long and deep contemplation, that nothing could be too insane for him any longer.


	4. Assalto

Ahhh! sorrry for the delay XD I had to think of a good plot for this chapter since there weren't much happening in the previous ones. Thanks for the reviews eveyone! They really got me going so keep em coming! Hope you enjoy this one. Really took me some time to plan out the events and all.

**Sheo Darren** : What? who else uses a Dragunov? haha, I'd very much like to know. And about Etta's knowing about Enrica...there's a story behind that. It's not in the manga OR the anime, don't worry, you're not alone.XD

* * *

**Dolls in Neverland**

_Chapter Four – Assalto_

_Assault_

"Do you think," Ferro asked Hillshire quietly, "that the girls will be alright with the confinement? I mean, it's bad enough Henrietta is failing and Jose has been MIA for days. If Lorenzo were to dismiss him…"

Hillshire put away his hand pistol back into the holster. The alley of Piazza di Popolo behind Hotel Valadier was now completely deserted and German-assassin-less. He had a premonition that this mission was _not_ going to work out anyway… Triela would have noted that. Ferro was only human.

"It wouldn't be a very clever idea to bring the rabbit to the wolves, and about Jose," Hillshire started his way out of the alley, and Ferro solemnly followed. "Well, let's hope that he doesn't do anything idiotic. He can't abandon Henrietta forever, you know? With all the things he left behind, he's bound to come back."

Ferro went silent. She didn't say it, but she had to admit that the SWA was on the brink of a failure. It suddenly dawned on her that they were getting into the van. The female agent tried to protest. First of all, this man was ditching their assignment and second, she was following him. She sighed dismally and pressed her earpiece. "This is Ferro. We are returning to base, over."

* * *

"Triela, _please _stop attacking the furniture, please." Claes complained with exasperation from the upper bunk bed. "You don't have to bother other people for _your_ inconvenience; don't you think so, Rico?" 

Rico, huddled into the far corner of her bed below Claes, watched the older girl glare at the beaten drawer and slump on the carpeted floor with a sudden collapse of energy. "Triela, Hillshire will come back soon, Priscilla told you so,"

"You _bet _he will, Rico. The point is that he _abandoned _me for Ferro, don't you think something is off about that?" Triela asked, demanding a "yes".

"No," Triela raised her head with narrowed ember eyes. This girl _had_ to be _so _unsociable. "You know he did that for a reason. Besides, imagine how Henrietta would be feeling right now, if she found out that Mr. Jose has abandoned _her. _You shouldn't be so egotistical like that."

Triela tried to argue back, but she knew all too well that everything Claes said was right, and there was nothing to argue about something that was so perfectly true. She dejectedly glanced at her blouse sleeve only to find that it had shrunk so much that her wrist was now completely bare. "Nothing's _ever_ working out for me, Claes... I apologize for being such a brat."

"Apology accepted," Claes replied with a small grin. "By the way, I went into Henrietta's room earlier today to find the book she borrowed from me a while ago, and look what I found under her pillow." She took something out of her pocket and reached over to hand it to Rico beneath her.

"It's a photograph," she pointed, and Triela came over to look at it with a sarcastic oh-what-a-wonder look. She tried to recognize the two young boys' faces. "Oh, these are Mr. Jose and Jean!"

"And a little girl…" Triela scratched her chin, her face scrunched up in deep thought. "This is too weird. She looks a bunch like 'Etta to me."

"Exactly what I thought, too, but that's impossible," Claes said, adjusting her glasses like a professional detective. "Do you think she's their secret sibling or something?"

Triela looked at her as if she were crazy. "As far as I can tell, Claes, you are _way _too nosy for your own good. Why did you steal 'Etta's stuff, anyway?"

"Like I said before, I was looking for my book, okay? It was strange that she had a photo like that, hidden under her pillow, even." Claes said defiantly. "I don't think we're the only ones that want to know who this girl is."

* * *

It was a while after Alfonso had heard from Ferro that he realized the two hadn't reported in yet. He immediately informed the situation to Jean and Lorenzo. 

"Sir, both Ferro and Hillshire hadn't returned yet from the check point. Should I go track down their location?"

Lorenzo seemed bewildered. After all the problems that have been going around the SWA, everything was like a sandbag on his shoulders. His forehead creased deeply. "I want you to go with Jean. Be sure to take extra safety measure. I will send Marco and Priscilla for backup, just in case there is an attack."

"Right," Jean stood up and promptly followed Alfonso out of the meeting room.

* * *

"This is the exact location the two were assigned to," Alfonso stood in the darkened alley. "Their van is gone, as well." 

"It's insensible for Hillshire to take a different route especially with Ferro by his side…get back into the car." Jean commanded and the two returned to the black Ferrari.

Alfonso took the wheel. "Man, we really are in deep shit, aren't we?" he muttered half-heartedly.

The blond didn't respond. He didn't have to.

Nearly thirty minutes passed and there was still no sign of the two agents. Anxiety was gnawing at the nerves of Alfonso and Jean as they neared the far end of the city.

Alfonso was about to burst with curses when the radio buzzed to life. Jean fervently picked it up and answered.

"What is it?"

It was Marco on the line. "Good news and bad news."

"It doesn't matter which."

Marco grunted and Priscilla said something, but it was inaudible. "We found Ferro."

Alfonso threw his head back in relief and mumbled "damn…"

"Well, that's good then," Jean said, and suddenly realized something was missing from the picture. "Wait, what about Hillshire?"

It was Priscilla who spoke this time, and he heard Marco protesting in the background. "Jean, we _need _to get the ambulance _now_!" she yelled into the radio half-hysterically.

"_Shit,_" Alfonso growled and slammed hard on the gas. "Shit!"

Jean's face hardened. Something had gone horribly, horribly wrong and there was nothing to question about it.

* * *


	5. Resistenza e desiderare

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own GSG.**

Sorry for the delay! I'm SUCH a procrastinator...I'll try to fix that. This chapter was really difficult...there's just so much stuff going on and it was like trying to find the correct puzzle piece. Thanks for all the GREAT reviews, everyone!

* * *

**Dolls in Neverland**

_Chapter Five - Resistenza e desiderare_

_Resistance and Longing_

**Underground Rome. **

2: 05 AM

"Wake up," the coarse German came familiarly to Hillshire's ears. "Don't make me say it again, man." This time, it was a low whisper of a snarl.

A hard, booted kick collided hard on his stomach, causing him to groan and fall sideways on the grubby, damp cement floor. He moved his hands with futile exertion, since his hands were tied up behind his back and, he realized soon enough, that his Colt was missing from the waist holster. "Who the hell are you people?" was all he managed to choke out.

Someone laughed in that derisive, mocking sort of way just a few yards out of view. Hillshire twitched ever so slightly.

"Gustavus Ferlich, it doesn't take us much to figure out your grand plan." He then sighed in a way a person would after trying to teach a three-year-old to count to ten. "In other words, whether or not you let me go decides whether you live or, unfortunately, not. It's only a matter of time before my location is tracked down."

Gustavus came into Hillshire's view. He laughed rather boisterously and its unnaturalness echoed off the leaking concrete walls.

"_Guten Morgen_, brother. Now, what would _you_ know about our grand plan? All we ever need is only a _robot_ from you people. I cannot see how hard that could be," he feigned to solicit through a heavy foreign accent. His unruly brown hair the color of upturned soil matched his smoky, obscure complexion, supposedly from gunpowder and ash. Hillshire did not respond, partly because of the pain throbbing all over his body, and partly because he did not have a response.

"It's hard to explain this world, _ja_. But, there are some things that are just so tantalizing, that no matter what, I _have _to seize them. Like power, for instance…although, it's one of the more pointless, worthless things that people go crazy for, and lose it the moment they grab it. On the other hand, something that _gives_ you power… well, that's a whole different story." The assailant revealed a small switchblade from his sleeve.

"Would you, _Herr Hartmann_, give up your own life for a piece of machine?"

**SWA Headquarters. **

All the SWA members, except for three, sat in stunned silence in the meeting room as if the shock of everything that has been happening had knocked all of their senses out. The tense silence was more nerve-wrecking than the ear-splitting noise of guns.

Lorenzo was the first to speak. "Ferro, as you have probably heard, is taken into intensive care. She should recover with no problem…the sniper deliberately hit her arm."

"The sniper's got us again," Marco muttered through gritted teeth. "What are we--"

"And, as for Hillshire, we identified his location," Jean interrupted. "He's somewhere underground Piazza Venezia. It should be very easy to find him from there."

Lorenzo stroked his gray, unshaven chin thoughtfully, as he often did. "Strange how they leave such obvious traces. It's as if they _want _us to find them." The fratellos turned to look at him. "What I'm saying is that they're using us the bait to get what they want, which in this case is a cyborg. They'll just keep on hunting us down one by one until," his experienced, far-seeing eyes hardened and the room grew silent once more, "we beg for them to stop."

----

"_Please,"_ Triela grabbed Priscilla's sleeve, her iron grip holding the female agent down at the spot. As her height neared the older woman's shoulders, her strength equally grew. "Please, just let me go with you!"

Priscilla shook her head apologetically with a sad smile. "I'm sorry, Triela. We're already losing Henrietta, and we can't risk losing you _or _Rico," she replied miserably. "Or Claes, for that matter."

"But--"

"We promise, Triela. We'll bring Hillshire back safe and sound, and _that _we'll make sure." She put a gentle hand on Triela's, and to her surprise, the tense hands let go of her jacket easily as if she was letting go of a delicate porcelain doll.

Something told Priscilla that the half-mechanical girl was crying. Crying. She couldn't see because Triela had turned her back to her, about to stride away with arrogance like a true Triela would. But now, she was just a forlorn teenage girl, her heart broken and bleeding at the loss of her love. Priscilla, taken back, barely heard what came next.

"And if the promise is broken…what would you do?" Before Priscilla could respond, the girl was out of the room.

* * *


End file.
